


bitter air and winds of spite

by saragreenleaf



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Brief Mentions of Phasma, Hux mostly just thinks he's a moron but wants to take care of him anyway, Kylo thinks he's very poetic, M/M, and that's not nothing!, but they do like each other, our boys are not very nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28279536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saragreenleaf/pseuds/saragreenleaf
Summary: in which their ship crashes, hux insists that kylo ren is an idiot with a concussion, kylo ren can't really muster much of a defense with his horrible pounding headache and nausea, and they must overcome their differences with the power of stabbing, shooting, and general lightsaber-ing.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24
Collections: Star Wars Secret Santa 2020





	bitter air and winds of spite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Archangelsanonymous (ArchangelsAnonymous)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelsAnonymous/gifts).



> happy holidays!! this is my fic for the star wars secret santa exchange!!
> 
> i got. just. so long winded with this. my original concept went WAY out of my control so... here's almost 4k words of kylux being mean to each other on a random planet. they're having fun! (mostly.) (okay maybe it is i who was having fun, but i had a LOT of it)
> 
> for @/gay-agents-and-generals on tumblr <3

Everything about General Hux was _sharp_.

Kylo Ren had known a lot of weapons in his life, had known he was a weapon to be used for as long as he could remember. An advantageous friendship to have. A pupil to be molded. An example to be paraded around. A mark worth targeting. An assassin to send. A source of information and control.

He was a lightsaber, bright and showy and deadly. A symbol.

Hux was a Krath war blade. Such a fine blade that you could take a step before even realizing your throat had been cut, so deeply imbued in the Dark Side that it was impossible to even get a reflection.

His grin was sharp. His thoughts were sharp. His ambition was sharp.

The only thing that wasn’t sharp was his Force presence. General Hux was as Force Sensitive as his boots, and about half as overtly emotional. He was brilliant of mind and tremendously ambitious, but he was not of particularly vibrant personality.

Which suited Kylo just fine. He could only shudder to imagine just what a man possessed of irrationality could do with Hux’s abilities. And that’s _considering_ the massive superweapon that he was building to wipe out literal star systems. Hux, at least, had no plans to run off on his own and destroy civilizations for the hell of it. No, everything, every moment, every breath, every plan had a purpose.

At least, that’s what Kylo was telling himself as they trekked miserably across Bumfuck, Nowhere, Wild Space in the pouring rain and high winds.

Hux hadn’t exactly asked Kylo along, had in fact requested he not come at all, but _really_. In what galaxy was Kylo going to sit around and wait while Hux gallivanted around the galaxy, investigating potential assets for the Order and having wild adventures without him? At least, that’s what Kylo assumed the intention was. Considering the ship had been shot at upon entry to the system and had promptly crashed, the original mission, whatever it had been, had been scrapped in favour of Surviving Long Enough For Rescue, so he hadn’t really had a chance to quiz Hux on his motives.

The three troopers that had survived the crash were working on the ship to see what, if anything, could be salvaged or used to call the Finalizer for rescue, and Hux and Kylo were hiking through the wilderness for… something. In full honesty, his brain had been vibrating since the crash and he was decently certain he was still bleeding a bit, but he didn’t really want to take his helmet off. Not in front of General Armitage ‘You-Should-Strap-Yourself-In-Ren-And-If-You-Don’t-You’d-Better-Not-Complain-When-You-Get-Hurt’ Hux.

“We’ll stop here,” Hux announced, cutting through Kylo’s thoughts. “Any closer, and we’ll be spotted.”

Kylo’s eyes snapped towards where Hux was gesturing and belatedly noticed the almost completely hidden base. The only signs that there was anyone in the weirdly shaped dirt mound was the machinery just barely poking out – anti-aircraft guns. The very same that had probably brought them down. Anger roiled in his belly, deep and hot, followed by a wave of nausea.

Hux crouched, bringing himself as close to the edge of the ridge as he apparently dared, pulling macrobinoculars from somewhere and lying down on his stomach to begin to assess the situation. Kylo reached out his mind, because if Hux did all the work while Kylo sat around, he’d be an insufferable bastard about it later, and he could sense a few dozen people, all adults, all filled with the grim satisfaction of bringing down an enemy ship.

He’d enjoy killing them. Maybe a little blood would help with his headache. Certainly couldn’t make it worse.

“About thirty-five lifeforms, definitely the bastards who brought us down,” Kylo announced smugly.

“New Republic base, about fifteen years old, three planetary defense grade ion cannons. Small hangar for speedercraft. No ground cannons.” Hux turned to smirk at Kylo. “I thought your weird mind powers were supposed to be helpful?”

“Shut up,” Kylo grumbled.

Hux seemed put off for a brief moment, his eyes narrowed just a bit, but then he turned back to watching the base without snarking back. “They don’t seem to be expecting an assault; they probably think that we all died in the crash. Imbeciles.”

“So, I’m going in, murdering them all, and then we’ll call for extraction?”

“We’ll see,” he answered cryptically. “I want to do a little more surveillance first so we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Kylo shrugged, sitting unceremoniously on the ground. “Suit yourself.”

He wasn’t sure just how long they sat there without speaking, but the hope that sitting quietly for a little while would make everything less wrong faded more with every second. _Concussion_ , his mind supplied grimly, and a pretty bad one. But it was fine. He just had to stick it out for long enough to get back to his quarters, which wouldn’t be long now. He’d go in, kill everyone in his way, call Phasma, and then he’d get to sleep, and it would be fine. Was fine now, in fact. He’d done more with worse injuries.

Hux seated himself right in front of Kylo. “Okay, Ren, ready to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kylo said, because nothing was wrong and everything was fine.

He hummed doubtfully. “Mind taking off that helmet for me?”

“Why?” he yelped, scooting backwards just a bit. “I do not need to do that. Why would I do that?”

“Because you clearly have some kind of brain injury and if we’re going to be clearing out that base, I need you to be coherent.”

“I’m coherent!”

He rolled his eyes. “Your standard for coherency is pretty low, but I have noticed marked downgrades from even your usual grunting and melodrama. As much as I very much do not miss it, you haven’t tried to argue with me _once_ , and head injury is far more likely than sudden appreciation for the chain of command.”

Kylo opened his mouth to dispute that, but Hux was already on top of him, trying to simultaneously pin him down and get the helmet off. Even concussed, though, Kylo was stronger than Hux and he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. Even though it was kind of nice to be pressed so close to Hux. Even though it was certainly nice to know Hux was worried about him. Even though Hux was surprisingly good at this.

“Just – take it – off – you bastard!” Hux grunted out, knee pinning Kylo’s flailing arm.

“Get off me!” Kylo snarled, squirming harder.

Hux got his other knee onto Kylo’s legs, but Kylo wrenched them both around so that he was on top and pinning Hux instead but ooooh, that was not good on his stomach. The world tilted alarmingly for a long moment and then vomit was filling his helmet and he was yanking it off so he could throw up onto the ground and maybe onto Hux too. If _he_ was gonna be miserable, then _everyone was gonna be miserable_.

“Hey!” Hux protested, disengaging completely and rolling away, well out of puke-range.

Kylo had a weird, incongruous moment of missing the press of Hux’s body on his before it was discarded in favour of dry heaving into the grass. It subsided as quickly as it came on, and he was left feeling disgusting, wondering just how he was going to solve that particular problem, when Hux shoved a wet rag into his face. He accepted it with slightly muted surprise, wiping away the mess.

“If you’d been less of a bastard from the start and just told me that you weren’t well, I would have given you something for it hours ago,” Hux said crossly. He’d at least had the grace to wait until Kylo had gotten himself clean, an unexpected mercy. The bottle of water he’d clearly used to wet the rag – which Kylo could now identify as a torn spare shirt – was on the ground within reach along with a few stim tabs of varying purpose. The labels swam just a bit as he stared at them.

“You absolute moron,” Hux muttered, passing the stims over one at a time. “For the dizziness, the nausea, and that one’s a stimulant to get your brain moving again.” He grabbed the other half of the shirt and wet it, rising just enough to loom over Kylo threateningly as he dabbed at the blood in his hair.

It was… oddly sweet, Kylo thought, just a little amused at their situation. He injected the three tabs and downed the remainder of the bottle of water, and he hated to admit that he felt almost immediately better.

He turned narrowed eyes onto Hux, once his mind was clear. Just what was the General getting out of treating him kindly? A more efficient attack dog, he supposed, although if Hux thought he was just going to roll over and obey his plans after that mildly humiliating display with the helmet, he had another thing coming.

Speaking of… “Where’s my helmet?” Kylo asked, once he was certain that he would start vomiting again the second he opened his mouth.

“You’ve got to be kriffing kidding me,” Hux said flatly. “What makes you think I’m giving that back to you?”

“It’s mine.”

“It’s full of _vomit_ , Ren. While watching you torture yourself needlessly is usually a mildly entertaining pastime, I really do think that I would give _myself_ a concussion to avoid thinking about you putting yourself through that.”

“It’s mine. Give it back,” he added in a low growl.

Hux sniffed imperiously. “Launched it into the river when you weren’t looking. It’s disgusting and I will gladly replace it. I’m fairly certain you would have had to replace it anyway, given that the structural integrity was definitely compromised.”

Maybe he would have. Maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe it’s none of Hux’s business. Either way, the helmet was gone, and he was stuck without it.

His first instinct was to knock Hux down a peg – see how he likes his stuff being thrown into rivers – but they were alone with unknown hostiles and even through the haze of anger, Kylo recognized that he was a useful ally.

“I’m throwing your coat into space when we get back,” he threatened.

Hux raised his eyebrows. “Sure. Feel up to killing some jackasses?”

“It’s insulting that you even have to ask.”

“I only ask because a mere fifteen minutes ago, you were vomiting very enthusiastically in my direction,” Hux reminded him, and Kylo had to firmly tell himself that Hux was not one of the jackasses he was planning on killing today. Or, this afternoon, at least. This evening was another story.

Kylo’s only answer to that particular jibe was a sneer as he pulled out his lightsaber. “Let’s go.”

“Just a moment,” Hux said. He shrugged off his greatcoat and folded it neatly, laying it beside his pack, and then his uniform jacket was laid gently beside it. Out of his pack then came four vibroblades, two blasters, and what Kylo assumed would assemble into some kind of heavy assault weapon but was strapped on in separate pieces. He looked ready to murder his way through that rebel base, and if Kylo was being honest, that was a really nice image.

Getting back down on his stomach, Hux primed one of the blasters, its whine soft but insistent. Charged enough to kill. “Ready,” he said. “You head down and kick the nest.”

He didn’t bother saying anything, just turned on his heel and jumped off of their little crest, moving as quickly as he could towards the two guards. They fell quickly and easily, surprised expressions etched onto their faces. It didn’t take long for others to begin swarming him, but he was never overwhelmed – pinpoint blasts took down almost as many as fell to his lightsaber, and he had to be grudgingly impressed that it seemed not a single shot missed its mark.

He counted the bodies piling up – twelve of his original count of thirty-five.

Another came around the edge, laying down heavy blaster fire and Kylo lunged forwards, only for a shot from behind to scream past his ear. He turned, sensing the imminent danger a second too late, only to be treated to the sight of the man who’d shot at him falling limply to the ground, Hux holding a dripping vibroblade and smiling pleasantly. Kylo very pointedly did not think about that image as he turned again, crossing the distance between himself and the shooter in a single movement. They fell down, bringing the body count to fourteen. Almost half, and they hadn’t even made it inside yet.

“Do we want to see if any of these shitstains have ID to access the door, or do we want to just laser-sword it into submission?” Hux asked casually, coming to stand beside Ren and look the door over critically.

“My way’s faster,” Kylo got out, absolutely not distracted by the spray of blood that had painted Hux’s cheek.

Hux gestured grandly at him to go ahead, a movement Kylo vaguely remembered from his diplomacy lessons as a kid to be for royalty on one of the Outer Rim planets. Whether it was a compliment or an insult, Kylo did get them in there pretty quickly, carving a massive hole in the door and then kicking it down with a dramatic, athletic move.

Hux didn’t seem too appreciative, but it’s not like he was trying to impress him anyway, so _whatever_.

Four guards waited just inside. Each of them got two, and Kylo wasn’t sure when he’d decided he needed to have the higher kill count, but he was definitely going to. Seventeen left, and he was already up by a few.

Without waiting for input from Hux, Kylo headed off down the leftmost hallway, his senses telling him that the highest concentration of life forms was down there. Sighing obnoxiously, Hux followed, and Kylo could hear the soft rustling of fabric and knocking of durasteel as weapons were swapped out.

They approached quietly enough that no one seemed to notice them, all scrambling to pack up data and other equipment. It seemed to be a command hub of some kind, since there were loads of screens and one platform where a leader could ostensibly look out over everyone to direct workflow, with thick barriers holding up the leader’s tech.

Hux tapped his shoulder, indicating the platform. Evidently, he’d had the same thought, and they moved as one.

Kylo reached out with the Force, throwing one against the wall while he speared another, and Hux nailed three in quick succession as he sprinted across the room. Kylo covered their move to the platform with wide, sweeping motions, the smell of burnt flesh so much worse without his helmet to filter it all out. There was screaming and moaning and yelling and total chaos, which was honestly just how he liked it. He could feel his pulse thrumming in his ears, and he grinned at Hux, who gave him a bloody, vicious smile in return.

Once they got up to the platform, it was game over. Hux hefted the heavy assault rifle with practised, eager hands and laid down fire on anyone who tried to approach. Kylo reflected any attempts at shooting them right back at the perpetrators, lightsaber spinning in both his and Hux’s defense.

It seemed to last for both an hour and a second – he blinked and suddenly none of the Rebels were standing. One was groaning, and then Hux shot him again, and he stopped groaning.

He did a body count – thirty-four. And where was –

“Lucky number thirty-five,” he growled, reaching out with the Force to snatch the last one, who’d been sneaking up to Hux with a blade in hand. Eyes just a little wider with more surprise than he usually let himself show, Hux turned to see his would-be assassin choke for a long moment before she collapsed.

There was a long pause. “Thank you,” Hux said, as if it grated on him to do so.

“You’re welcome, General,” Kylo said, and then seized on the opportunity to gloat. “I know you wouldn’t have made it without me.”

“I’m happy to let you believe that,” he said stiffly.

“And I’m happy to let you believe whatever you want, too,” Kylo shot back, pouring as much amused condescension as he could muster into his voice. “Either way, let’s find the comms.”

Hux huffed out an annoyed breath, seeming to weigh having the last word against Kylo choosing to be productive. He chose the latter, but didn’t seem happy about it, which figured. “It should be this way,” he said, not waiting on Kylo to follow.

“I think we’re going the wrong way,” Kylo said, just to be a jerk. There really weren’t that many hallways around here.

“If you have nothing useful to contribute – oh, there it is.” Hux pulled a First Order beacon device that would let them connect to Phasma from his pocket, crouching to inspect the communications panel better. It was smoking slightly and the door wasn’t latched on properly, and Kylo knew what Hux was going to say before he said it. “Damn. They wrecked it before leaving.”

“We’ll just need to rewire it,” Kylo said confidently.

They both reached for it at once.

“I can do it,” Hux said, and the _probably quicker than you_ can went unsaid but heard loud and clear.

“So can I,” Kylo shot back, annoyed. Whether he liked to think about it or not, his first calluses had been from playing with janky wiring on Han Solo’s beloved but barely functional rustbucket, and he was pretty sure that that made him more qualified to play technician on _this_ bit of janky New Republic wiring.

Hux rolled his eyes and gestured for Kylo to go ahead. Kylo narrowed his eyes but didn’t hesitate to start in on the wiring, assessing the mess with a critical eye. Maybe being on the Finalizer had him spoiled, because this somehow seemed worse that what he was used to. How in the kriffing Force the New Republic managed anything when their movement was, at best, a squabbling collective of similarly minded but disconnected systems with what he could only guess amounted to about seven credits, nine starships from the Clone Wars, and more fancy dresses that one could shake a lightsaber at, was well beyond him. He was _so glad_ that his job had nothing to do with politics.

“You should connect the red and the green,” Hux said, cutting through his thoughts.

“I know what I’m doing,” Kylo snapped. The red and the green did need to be connected. Dammit. He slipped in the beacon and started just prodding around to find the loose connection.

“Next –”

“Shut _up_ , Hux, I _know what I’m doing_!”

Hux raised his eyebrows and took a step back, arms raised in mock surrender. “Sure, you do,” he said mildly, as if Kylo’s annoyance was a personal attack on his innocent soul. Ha!

“Yes, I do!” he said firmly, jamming his hands back in and tuning Hux out.

As expected, Hux refused to be tuned out. “I’m just saying –”

“You always undermine me –”

“ _You_ always undermine _me_!”

“This isn’t about you!”

“Because everything has to be all about you, all the time?”

Kylo clambered to his feet. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Didn’t you? Because you are the most self-centred person –”

“That is _rich_ coming from you!”

Hux was right in his face, his eyes blazing. Kylo didn’t think he’d _ever_ seen him this worked up about _anything_ before.

There was a long pause – Hux’s tangle of anger and anticipation was heady on Kylo’s tongue, the air itself seeming to still as if the world itself hung in wait to see how badly they were about to murder each other.

But then –

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but when they kissed, Kylo could feel Hux’s body heat pressed against what felt like every inch of him. Gloved hands gripped his hair tightly, yanking just enough to pull a soft growl from him, vibrating against both of their lips.

Kylo slammed Hux back against the wall, and they jumped apart at the sparks that erupted from the forgotten communications panel, breathing heavily and eyes locked.

There was a sharp crackle, and then Phasma’s voice – staticky and jumpy, but definitely hers. “General Hux?”

“Captain Phasma,” Hux greeted, and although outwardly, he was controlled and even, Kylo could _hear_ his thrumming pulse. “Is this a private channel?”

“Yes, of course, General. What’s going on down there? We lost contact with your ship,” Phasma said.

“We got shot down,” he said, with the kind of casual airs of someone reporting on the weather. He was smiling, and it made the blood on his cheek crinkle.

Phasma sighed, and when she spoke, the disapproval was heavy in her voice. “Why can’t you ever play nice with the other kids, sir?”

“He’s an insufferable bastard,” Kylo suggested, earning himself a swift punch to the arm. He made a face right back at Hux’s sour expression.

“I do suppose there’s that,” she agreed, clearly amused. “I’ll gather a strike team to take care of the rebels on the planet and an extraction team to get you two out of there.”

Hux sniffed imperiously. “How inefficient do you take me to be, Captain? We’ve cleared the rebel base. That’s actually where we’re calling you from. We’ll need an extraction team, and the troopers left at the wreckage will also need transport.”

“The teams will be en route as soon as we can get ships in. Are there any injuries they should be aware of?”

“Nothing serious,” Hux said.

“Unless the troopers decided to play landmine hopscotch in our absence,” Kylo added. “They didn’t seem very bright.”

Phasma sighed again, and he could almost sense her exasperation from orbit. “They were perfectly competent soldiers. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“If you say so,” he said, infusing as much doubt into his voice as he could.

“Captain, please send the extraction team as soon as possible. Being surrounded by rebel stupidity is giving me hives,” Hux cut in, apparently also inclined to be kind of a dick to Phasma for no good reason. Actually, no, it was fun, and that was as good a reason as any.

“They’ll leave shortly. Can you keep yourselves entertained in the meantime?” Phasma asked wryly.

They exchanged a sharp grin. “I’m sure we’ll find a way,” Hux said.


End file.
